The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That Would Be Wrong

Chapter IV.

Chester Thomas woke up smiling.

He often did, these days. The girl he’d lusted after hopelessly in high school was now his girlfriend, and their sex life was terrific. Her snooty suitemates had been persuaded to accept the relationship, and even to serve as erotic “extras” when he went over to her place on dates. Even the professor he’d had the most trouble with this year, the formidable Dr. Cannon, was his friend now—more than his friend, in fact. Their “academic conferences” together were educational in ways far outside the curriculum of Barton Community College.

None of them knew it, of course.

Chester sat up and stretched before putting on the clothes he’d laid out the night before. The last item he put on was a pair of dark sunglasses. Dressed, he paused by his desk for a moment and opened one of the top drawers to pull out a small object, a cheap-looking pendant he allowed to dangle before him, catching the light.

He grinned, remembering what had happened the first time he’d done that. He’d been out of it for twenty minutes!

For the ornament he held in his hand wasn’t just some costume-jewelry gewgaw. He’d found it while exploring the mysteriously abandoned campus of Fairview University, once Barton’s upscale rival for college students from the area. Old F.U. had been the focus of some truly amazing rumors—and when he’d made his discovery, he’d learned there was at least some truth to the stories. The pendant was powerfully hypnotic. People under its influence could be persuaded to do, think, become almost anything—and even a moment’s direct look was enough to put someone under.

That was what the glasses were for. They didn’t just make him “look cool,” as he told people. He’d learned early on that their dimming of the flashes from the pendant’s gem kept him from being affected.

He still didn’t know the whole story of what had happened at Fairview. It didn’t bother him, though. What mattered was what he could do with the golden opportunity he’d been granted.

And what he’d done so far was help himself.

Chester smirked. He’d “helped himself,” all right: helped himself to the beautiful Kristie Blake, her bitchy friends, and even Professor Andrea Cannon.

Not that he’d done anything to really hurt anybody, he hastily reassured himself. That would be wrong.

With great power comes great responsibility, he thought, and grinned.

After a moment, the grin vanished. It really was tempting to use the pendant to settle every argument, fix every problem. But that would be wrong, too, even if he didn’t hurt anyone in the process. It would be cheating. He’d already used it more than he’d ever imagined he would, back at the beginning, and done things with it he never would have believed he’d do. Besides, if he got carried away, he might attract the wrong sort of attention. Visions of anonymous government Men in Black descending on him, every one of them wearing dark glasses like his own, flitted menacingly through his head.

Maybe, he mused, I should just get rid of the damn thing. He could do it easily enough: just drop it in the trash. Maybe he should step on the crystal first, just to be safe. It wasn’t really a jewel, after all, just a set of carefully-ground lenses; it would shatter easily.

But no. He wasn’t done remaking Kristie yet. Besides, if something blew up on him, he might need his secret weapon to get out of trouble. He’d been doing his best to keep a low profile, but you never knew. . . .

He sighed. Decisions, decisions.

Kristie Blake was dreaming again, one of the hot dreams she’d been having lately.

In the dream, she was lying naked on her bed with her boyfriend. He was propping himself up with one hand and looking down at her. She knew she was dreaming because the guy with her was Chester Thomas, and because Mandy and Debra were standing guard at the door dressed in tight-fitting pants, spike heels and no tops at all.

Chester was holding something in his free hand, something her eyes followed automatically as it swung gently back and forth, back and forth. It was some kind of crystal on the end of a chain, and as it moved, it gave off rainbow sparkles of reflected light. The sparkles were beautiful, and dazzling; she could barely see past them to Chester’s face. And she didn’t really want to; it felt so good just to watch the pretty sparkling lights and listen to the voice from beyond them as it explained things to her.

“When you wake up, Kristie” the voice was saying now, “you’ll remember this as a dream, Kristie, as you always do, but this time, you’ll also remember that I really am your boyfriend, Kristie, that we really have been dating. You’ll remember this, and it will be okay, Kristie, because you like me and you think I’m cute, you wouldn’t be dating me if you didn’t like me or you didn’t think I was cute. It’ll be okay, Kristie, because you trust me completely, you know I’d never do anything bad to you.”

“Yes, Chester darling,” Kristie heard her own voice answer. “Remember this as a dream . . . like always. But remember . . . you really are my boyfriend. We really have . . . been dating.” She giggled drowsily. “’S okay, ‘cause I like you and . . . I think you’re cute . . . Chester darling. Trust you completely. You’d never do anything . . . bad to me.”

“That’s right, Kristie,” said the familiar voice from beyond the beautiful sparkling lights. “Now just close your eyes and wait for me to tell you what to do next.”

Kristie smiled vaguely, sighed, and closed her eyes. Behind their lids, the pretty lights still danced back and forth, back and forth. . . .

Chester got up and pulled on his clothes, carefully pocketing the hypnotic pendant. The gorgeous redhead lying amid the bedsheets didn’t notice. She was lost in her own private world, and would respond now only to his voice.

He smiled down at her. His suggestions just now were meant to move their relationship toward the next phase, in which Kristie would think of herself as his lover and do what he told her to do even when not in trance.

Fully clothed, he leaned over the dozing Kristie and murmured, “Open your eyes now, Kristie. Open your eyes and listen to me.”

“Yes, Chester darling.” Kristie’s eyes opened and fastened on him.

“I have to go home now, Kristie. Now when I tell you to, I want you to count slowly backward in your head from one hundred to zero”—that should be more than enough time—“and when you get to zero, I want you to wake up and remember what I’ve told you to remember. Tell me what that is, Kristie.”

In a soft voice, the redhead repeated Chester’s instructions.

“That’s right, Kristie.” Chester turned his attention to Mandy and Debra, who still stood at attention at their posts, sexy door guards for Kristie’s bedroom, and gave them their usual final instructions. They obeyed with dreamy smiles, putting their regular clothes on. As soon as he departed, they’d wake up with no memory that anything strange had happened.

Finished, he turned back to Kristie and commanded: “All right, Kristie, start counting.”

“Yes, Chester darling,” burbled the redhead. She fell silent, only a faint movement of her lips betraying the fact that she had begun the countdown he’d ordered.

Grinning, Chester left.

Time passed, and Barton Community College’s resident brainwasher solidified his control over his hypnotized harem, and over Kristie Blake in particular.

A milestone was passed the day Chester asked a fully conscious Kristie for a date and she accepted. Afterward, she found herself puzzled at how her feelings toward Chester had changed.

What’s happening to me? she wondered. It’s like I’m a whole different person these days. Thinking back, she could hardly believe she’d been so mean to him before. She tried to remember why she’d acted that way, but all that came to mind was a vision of something swinging back and forth amid sparkles of light. After a few seconds, her mind wandered to another topic and she forgot she had even questioned her new feelings.

The date was nice. They ate at the fanciest restaurant in town, with uniformed waiters and everything. Kristie was flattered, and a little surprised: she knew Chester didn’t have a lot of money. He seemed to be making a real effort to impress her.

Finally the meal was over, and their server arrived with the bill. Chester looked up at him calmly and said, “Just leave it here, please, and come back in five minutes, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said. Nodding, he stepped away.

“Chester, I don’t understand,” Kristie said. “Why didn’t you just pay?”

Her date smiled indulgently. “Because of the pretty, shiny pendant, Kristie.”

The redhead gasped. Her eyes widened and went vague. The words called forth the image of the pendant Chester had shown her so many times before, swinging, flashing, swinging, flashing. It was beautiful. . . .

She was vaguely aware of a man’s voice—Chester’s?—telling her things, and of a woman’s—was that her voice?—repeatedly responding, “Yes, Chester darling.” But what Chester was actually saying somehow didn’t seem to register; it sank out of her mind’s sight immediately, forgotten. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the beautiful gem swinging back and forth, sparkling in her mind.

Suddenly she was aware of her surroundings again. The waiter was back.

Kristie reached into her purse and pulled out one of her credit cards. The waiter raised an eyebrow as he accepted it, but he said nothing. He took the card and went off, returning shortly with it and handing it back to her with the receipt.

“Thank you,” the redhead said. Their server nodded again and moved off.

“I’ll take that, Kristie.” Chester held out his hand. Without thinking, his date dropped the receipt into his palm. He tucked it away and the two of them got ready to leave.

Outside, Kristie turned to Chester and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “It was so nice of you to treat me to a fancy place like this, when I know you don’t have much money.” She patted Chester’s arm fondly.

“You’re welcome.” Chester smiled. “I felt you deserved it.” The smile grew into a grin, and the blond young man’s eyes twinkled as if at some secret joke. The two of them walked along, enjoying the evening air, until they arrived at where Chester’s car was parked.

Playing the gentleman, Chester opened the passenger-side door and held it for Kristie before getting in himself and starting the engine. He was still grinning as he pulled out of his parking spot.

He had every reason to smile. All he’d had to do was say the secret words, and Kristie had gone into trance right there in her chair. By now, his control of the gorgeous girl now seated beside him in his second-hand Ford sedan was so complete that if he’d wanted, he could have had her dancing on their table, peeling to the buff in front of all the other diners and enjoying every instant of what she believed was only a dream. But of course, that would be wrong. Merely having her pay for dinner and then think he’d been the one who’d ponied up was, he told himself, proof that power hadn’t corrupted him.

They were walking across the campus from the student garage when it dawned on Kristie that they weren’t headed toward Holden Dormitory, where she lived, but toward Howard, where Chester’s place was. “Hey,” she protested weakly, " I thought you were taking me home.”

Chester patted her arm and answered, “Of course I am, honey. But don’t you want to stop by my place for a minute first?”

“I—I, I’m . . . I need to get home.” Despite her words, she couldn’t seem to make herself stop walking beside the tall young man.

Chester wheedled, “Come on, just for a moment. We’re almost there anyway.”

Kristie surrendered. “All—all right. Just for a moment.”

A few minutes later they arrived. Chester unlocked his door and ushered Kristie inside, flicking on the light switch next to the door frame as he followed her in.

Kristie looked around. Somehow, the place looked familiar. . . . After a moment, her eyes widened as she remembered the hot dreams she’d been having about Chester, that she’d been too embarrassed to mention to anyone. In some of them, they’d been together in a place just exactly like this!

As that realization struck, so did a wave of lust. Images from the dreams flooded her mind. She made a little sound deep in her throat.

“Are you all right?” Chester sounded concerned. Sincerity, that’s the key, he cackled to himself. Once you can fake that, you’ve got it made. He had a pretty good idea what was happening; he’d been counting on it, in fact.

“Chester,” Kristie breathed, swaying toward him, “I . . . I want.” She struggled to find words as the images and the feelings from her dreams washed through her in a scalding tide. ”You. I want you, Chester. Please. . . .” Helpless with desire, she moved toward the blond youth who’d brought her here. All remaining thoughts of going home vanished. All thought vanished. She surrendered to sensation. Her last clear memory for a while was of pressing her lips desperately against Chester’s and feeling his arms come up and tighten around her. Then she was nothing but eager flesh, thrusting and writhing hotly against him, babbling incoherently while their bodies moved together. “Pretty . . . flashing . . . lights! Because you say so! Chester darling! Pretty . . . flashing . . . lights!“ Her eyes rolled up, and all she saw were pretty flashing lights, swinging back and forth, back and forth in time with her own movements—or was she moving with the lights? She didn’t know, and didn’t care.

At last, exhausted, she collapsed into sleep atop the sweat-drenched form of her lover and master. Chester Thomas followed her into slumber a couple of minutes later. His last thought before doing so was that everything was working out perfectly.

Kristie shook hair from her eyes as she blinked herself awake. Where am I?

All at once, memory flooded back. The date with Chester: the fancy dinner, the drive back to campus. Chester had been supposed to walk her home—but somehow, it hadn’t worked out that way. . . .

She lay still, trying to piece things together. Somehow, they’d ended up back at Chester’s room instead of her suite. Somehow, it had turned out Chester’s dorm room looked exactly like the place they’d had sex together in those dreams of hers. And somehow, as soon as that had registered, she’d started remembering those dreams and getting, like, totally turned on. What happened after that she remembered less well, but what she did recall was pretty wild. Her daddy would lock her up, like, forever, and come looking for Chester with a gun if he knew.

She giggled softly. She never would have imagined she’d end up dating Chester Thomas, of all people, let alone ending up in bed with him. And enjoying it! She had to admit that part.

Beside her on the bed, Chester stirred, mumbled, and opened his eyes.

Chester blinked and reached automatically for his glasses. As the world came into focus, he saw Kristie Blake, nude, smiling at him from where she lay on the bed. He smiled back.

Behind the friendly expression, though, he gloated. He had been ready to trigger the redhead again to get her ready for bed, but he hadn’t needed to. She’d gotten all turned on all by herself. Even though his suggestions kept her mind from recalling what the two of them had done together in the past, her body had remembered, and responded to its memories. And since he hadn’t actually put her under last night, she’d remember—at least more or less—what they’d done this time. Certainly her expression said she remembered, and that she wasn’t having a problem with it.

Eventually he’d be able to remove the mental blocks he’d installed. By the time he was ready to do that, Kristie would belong to him body, mind and soul, even when she wasn’t in trance.

Chester grinned wickedly. After all the times the gorgeous girl had blown him off in the old days, payback was sweet.

More time passed. Eventually it was time for semester break. Chester went home to his parents’ place, and Kristie left to visit her own family.

Chester’s grades were good enough to satisfy his family. Of course, that was due in no small part to the special relationship he’d forged with his sociology professor, Dr. Andrea Cannon. The extra slack she’d been . . . persuaded . . . to grant him had been a great help in keeping his marks up. His parents didn’t know about that, of course, and he wasn’t about to tell them. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

During previous vacations, Chester had been happy enough just to putter around and let his parents, well, parent him. It wasn’t as if he’d had anything special to do, after all. But things were different now, and as the days passed, he found himself increasingly bored. He certainly couldn’t invite Kristie over, although he had her home number; she was something else they didn’t know about. His mother, in particular, would probably be really upset if she did find out. She had never seemed any too comfortable with the idea of her little boy—Chester winced; he’d heard her call him that much too often and much too recently—dating girls, let alone having wild sex with them. Her smothering hadn’t made his teen years any easier. So of course, it would be a bad idea to let her even suspect what was going on.

He realized ruefully that the past few months had spoiled him somewhat. He’d just have to deal with it, that was all.

Unexpectedly, however, an opportunity opened up.

“Chester, dear,” his mother announced one morning, “your father and I are going out for the day to visit your grandmother Anne in Rosedale.” She smiled uncertainly at him. “Do you think you can manage for yourself for the day, or would you rather come with us?”

Chester shuddered. Granny Anne was a prim old prune who always made him feel as if she disapproved of him and vaguely suspected her son wasn’t really his father. Both of his parents seemed determined not to notice her attitude, as if ignoring it would eventually make the problem go away. “No, I can manage.”

“Well, if you’re sure. . . .” His mother’s voice trailed off.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Grace,” his father said, exasperated, “he’s in college now, not kindergarten! He can take care of himself!”

“Well, all right,” Grace Thomas yielded. And that, to Chester’s great relief, was that.

Presently he stood by the large windows at the front of the Thomas home, watching, as his mother and father pulled out of the driveway in their car. At last they disappeared from sight.

The skinny blond young man went into the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of tea, which he brought back to the living room and sipped slowly while sitting on the couch. When he was finished with it, he brought the empty cup back to the kitchen and set it in the dishwasher. Then he went to his room.

A few minutes later he emerged, having found what he’d been looking for. He went to the phone mounted on the kitchen wall. He scanned the slip of paper he’d brought back with him and then punched the digits written on it.

After several rings, a voice answered, “Yes?” It was Kristie; the number he’d used belonged to her cell phone.

“It’s me, Chester,” the blond beanpole replied. “I’m at my parents’ place. They’re gone for the day. Want to come over?”

Kristie giggled. “To your house, Chester? With your parents gone? We’d be all alone! What would we do?”

“Oh, I’m sure we can think of something,” Chester answered impishly. “So do you want to come on over, or not?” If she said no, he was ready to say the secret words and change her mind.

It turned out to be unnecessary. Kristie giggled again. “Sure! How do I get there?”

Chester gave her the address. “Do you know how to get here from where you are?”

“Sure,” Kristie affirmed. “It’s not far. I’ll be over in, oh, say forty-five minutes?”

“Fine,” responded Chester. The two of them made their farewells and hung up. Chester went back into the living room, whistling.

As she walked up the cobbled pathway leading to the front door of the Thomas house, Kristie Blake shook her head in bemusement. If someone had told her a few months ago that she’d be going out with Chester Thomas, she’d have laughed her ass off. Yet here she was, not only dating him but actually, like, having sex with him—and now sneaking over to his parents’ place for a visit while they were away. Life sure was funny.

Three cement steps went up to the front door. Kristie mounted them, her glossy high-heeled black pumps clicking on the hard surface, and rang the doorbell. After a moment, the door opened.

Chester was standing there. He invited her in, and she entered, looking around her at the living room. Something must have shown in her face, because Chester frowned.

“My family doesn’t have as much money as yours,” he reminded her. “My grandparents never could afford to buy a house at all. I know our place isn’t as fancy as yours, but that shouldn’t matter, should it?”

Kristie flushed. “No—no, I suppose not,” she said. Even to herself, she didn’t sound convincing. All at once, it seemed she could feel all her doubts about dating Chester flooding back. Bad enough he was a nerd (even if the sex was great)—he was poor too? Of course, she’d always sort of known it, but seeing it was something else.

Watching the redhead, Chester sighed. Plainly he had more work to do on her. Well, he’d come prepared.

Kristie saw Chester take a pair of dark glasses out of his pocket and put them on. At school, shades had become a regular part of his outfit, but why he wanted to wear them here, she had no idea.

Next he pulled something else out of another pocket, some kind of chain with a big fake-looking jewel hanging from it. She’d seen that somewhere before, hadn’t she? Her eyes followed it as it began to swing gently back and forth, catching the light, sparkling. She couldn’t seem to look away, but that didn’t matter. It was beautiful. . . .

After twenty seconds or so, Chester put the pendant away. Kristie was very obviously under, her eyes wide and blank, her mouth hanging open loosely.

He could have used her verbal cue, of course, but he’d found that the gem put her deeper under. Since it appeared he had some further programming to do, every advantage helped.

He scowled. Here he’d been planning on some innocent (well, okay, not so innocent) fun, and now he’d have to spend time actually working on her.

His expression lightened, turning to a grin as he thought, Well, yeah—but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun at the same time.

“Come with me, Kristie,” he directed, holding out his hand.

“Yes Chester darling,” came the answer. Kristie took Chester’s hand and allowed herself to be led away. Her surroundings registered just enough to keep her from bumping into things. All she really saw were the pretty flashing lights.

“You understand, don’t you, Kristie?” The voice came to her from someplace beyond the beautiful swaying lights which made up her universe. It was important to listen to the voice, important to do what it said.

“Yes Chester darling.” That was a different voice. Her voice? It didn’t matter.

“And what is it you understand, Kristie?” The important voice again.

“You’re my boyfriend,” answered the second voice. Kristie felt herself nodding. That was right. The first voice belonged to her boyfriend. “I love you. I’ll do . . . anything for you.” Pleasure shot through her as she spoke those words. ”Annnyythinnnggg. . . .

“And it doesn’t matter that my family doesn’t have money, does it, Kristie?” The important voice paused as if its owner were choosing what to say next. “In fact, it turns you on, doesn’t it? It turns you on to be dating somebody who doesn’t have money, because your daddy wouldn’t like it and you like to do things your daddy wouldn’t like, Kristie, you like to do things your daddy wouldn’t like, as long as he doesn’t find out, Kristie, you like to do things your daddy wouldn’t like, because who’s he to tell you what to do, isn’t that right, Kristie.”

Kristie heard the second voice—was it hers?—giggle as it answered. “Yes Chester darling.” Everything the first voice, her boyfriend’s voice, said was true. She did like to do things her daddy would think were naughty. Just because he was her daddy didn’t mean he could tell her what to do. Only her boyfriend could tell her what to do; she’d do anything for him.

“Now Kristie,” her boyfriend’s voice told her, “in a moment I’m going to count backwards from three. As I do, you’re going to become more and more awake. When I reach zero, Kristie, and only when I reach zero, you’re going to be fully awake, and very horny, Kristie, fully awake and eager for sex, so eager you won’t care about anything else. Do you understand, Kristie?”

“Yes, Chester darling.”

Chester looked down at Kristie. She was kneeling on his bed, body tilted back, naked except for her high heels. Her arms hung limply at her sides; her fingertips trailed in the bedsheets. Her face was tilted upward slightly, eyes open but tracking back and forth, back and forth, following the sway of the pendant gem which still filled her vision even though he had put the real one aside.

He shucked out of his own clothes, grinning. He was living out every guy’s fantasy: he had a gorgeous babe totally in his power, a living sex toy who’d do anything he wanted and remember only what he allowed her to remember of what she did. More than that, even when she wasn’t under the pendant’s spell, she thought of him as her boyfriend, and, more and more, did what he wanted because she thought it was her own idea.

He felt himself growing hard. He opened his mouth to speak, to begin the countdown which would wake Kristie up and leave her gasping for his touch.

Chester!“ The shriek sliced through him like the claws of a harpy. ”Chester . . . Alan . . . Thomas, what is going on in here?

Stomach dropping, Chester turned to face his mother. “Wha-what . . . what’re you doing home so soon?” he croaked.

“What am I doing!” Grace Thomas flared. “I just decided I couldn’t leave you alone all day, so I left your father at your grandmother’s and came right home.” Listening, Chester shuddered. He could just picture that scene. “And I come back and find—this!“ A wild gesture took in Chester’s naked form and Kristie posed and oblivious on the bed.

Mrs. Thomas regarded the redhead more closely. “And what’s wrong with this . . . this slut, anyway? She doesn’t even seem to know what’s going on! What is it, drugs? Yes, of course it’s drugs, how could you, I knew I never should have let you go away to school. . . .” Tears began to leak from her eyes.

There was only one chance to save the situation. Chester took it.

“No, Mom,” he said soothingly, edging over toward the bedside table. “It’s not drugs. I wouldn’t do drugs.” Careful, careful, he cautioned himself as his fingers closed around a familiar object. He picked it up, turning it by feel until it was safe to look. “It’s just this.”

“What . . . is that, Chester?” Grace Thomas’s reddened face faded back toward its normal color and her furious expression softened as her eyes locked onto the motion of the object her son was holding.

“Just something I found a while back, Mom,” Chester informed her. He kept the pendant swinging gently while he glanced around until he spotted his protective glasses. He retrieved them with his free hand and put them on. No sense in taking chances. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Fasci . . . nating,” his mother agreed.

“Just keep watching it, Mom, keep watching it move back and forth, back and forth, watch the way the light glints off of it, so beautiful, so relaxing.”

“So beautiful,” Mrs. Thomas echoed softly. “So relaxing.”

“Now just close your eyes,” Chester directed. “Just close your eyes, Mom, that’s right, your eyes are closing, your eyes are closed, but you can still see the beautiful relaxing pendant moving back and forth, back and forth, isn’t that right, Mom.”

“Yes, Chester,” Mrs. Thomas responded. “Beautiful. Relaxing. Back . . . and forth.” She fell silent, calm now. Behind her closed eyelids, her eyes moved back and forth, back and forth.

Chester set the pendant back on the table carefully, face down. The coast was clear now; his mom was under.

He looked her over carefully. In trance, she looked years younger. In fact, he thought, she looked pretty good: she had a pretty face, and a nice figure under the dowdy clothes she favored, and the blonde hair he’d inherited had barely a hint of gray in it.

“Jeez,” he muttered, “what am I turning into, some kind of perv? This is my mom!” He forced his thoughts off the track they’d started to take and considered what to do next.

The answer, actually, was obvious.

“Mom,” he addressed her, “can you hear me?”

“Yes, Chester,” Grace Thomas answered meekly.

“Good. Now listen carefully.” Chester drew a deep breath. “You came home because you were worried about me, isn’t that right, Mom?”

“Yes, Chester.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong here.” Chester paused to marshal his words. “You came home and saw there was nothing wrong here. You’re not worried any more.”

“Yes, Chester.” Grace’s blonde head bobbed up and down. “Nothing . . . wrong here. Not . . . worried any more.”

“Everything’s perfectly normal here,” Chester went on, driving the point home. “No one else is with me, but everything’s okay.”

“No one else is . . . with you, but everything’s . . . okay.” Another slow nod.

“So you can go back to Granny Anne’s now,” instructed Chester. “You can leave the house again, knowing that everything’s okay here, that I’m alone here but everything’s okay. And that’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to leave the house, knowing that everything’s okay. As soon as you leave the house, Mom, you’ll be completely awake and alert, and you’ll forget about me showing you the beautiful relaxing pendant, you’ll remember instead that everything is okay here even though I’m all alone, and you’ll go back to Granny Anne’s until it’s time to bring Dad home. Do you understand all that, Mom, and will you do it?”

“Yes, Chester.” Nod. “I understand. I’ll . . . do it.”

“That’s right, Mom.” Chester drew another breath. “Now open your eyes.”

Mrs. Thomas obeyed.

“I’m going to snap my fingers, Mom, and when I do, you’ll leave the house. Tell me what will happen when you leave the house, Mom.”

Chester’s mother repeated her son’s instructions.

Smiling, Chester snapped his fingers.

Grace Thomas turned and left Chester’s bedroom, very obviously unaware of her son’s nudity and of the beautiful girl posing naked on her knees on his bed. Chester followed her out and watched as she headed out of the house.

For just a moment, as she stood on the top step in front of her home, Grace Thomas felt odd. There was something she’d forgotten, wasn’t there?

Well, she decided, it couldn’t have been anything important. Chester was all right, even though he was home alone. That was all that really mattered. She could get on back to her husband and mother-in-law without worrying any more.

She got into her car and drove off.

Chester grinned. It had worked! It had felt weird to use the pendant on his own mother like that, but she’d really been freaking out. And it wasn’t as if he’d done anything to hurt her, after all. That would be wrong. He’d just made her forget about seeing him with Kristie and go away.

He went on back to the bedroom. Kristie was still there, still posed on his bed, in deep trance. As far as she was concerned, his mother might never have been there at all.

He rubbed his hands together and murmured to the blank-eyed babe, “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Three. . . . Two. . . . One. . . . Zero.”

Much later, a happily tired Chester reluctantly disentangled himself from a spent and drowsy Kristie. “Time to go home now,” he told her. “Time to go home, before your folks start wondering where you are and before mine come home.”

“Yes Chester darling.” Kristie giggled. She was much more aware now than she’d been when Chester’s mom had burst in on the two of them, but still relaxed and pliable. Chester was her boyfriend, after all, and they’d just had sex, and she felt all warm and wanted to do what he told her. She got up and put her clothes on, making a show of it, a kind of reverse striptease, for Chester’s benefit. Then, giggling again, she let Chester lead her toward the front door. She headed out, got into her car and drove away, as Chester watched through the living room window.

When she was gone, Chester went into the kitchen and made another cup of tea. He sat at the kitchen table with it, sipping the hot drink and contemplating the future.

Kristie was his now, he knew. It was just a matter of completing her programming. But his mother’s unexpected interference had introduced a complication. He’d been able to save himself this time, but if things were going to go the way he wanted, Mom would have to be handled more permanently. Dad, too, to be safe.

Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing. Mom, in particular, could use a personality adjustment. She needed to stop clinging all the time—and now, he could arrange that. And once Dad made the pendant’s acquaintance, maybe—well, no maybe about it—Chester could get a bit more spending money out of him. And he was sure he could think of other things to . . . discuss . . . with both of them.

And after that . . .

Chester thought of himself as a nice guy. He knew how tempting it was to use the power he’d been given for selfish ends, and he didn’t want to give in to that temptation any more than he already had. He wanted to believe that once he’d fixed things the way he wanted with Kristie and his family, and of course Mandy and Debra and Dr. Cannon, he’d put the pendant away and never use it again.

But he knew that would be wrong.

END.